


Until the Night Turns

by shadow_djinni



Series: Red Star Rising [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Asexuality Spectrum, Bottom Sendak, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Implicitly Asexual Sendak, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Sendak Redemption AU, Top Shiro (Voltron), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_djinni/pseuds/shadow_djinni
Summary: Shiro and Sendak have a routine: on nights Shiro has trouble sleeping, they burn off steam sparring.  This time, sparring isn't the only thing on Shiro's mind— but he may have bitten off more than he can chew.
Relationships: Sendak/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Red Star Rising [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/953184
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Until the Night Turns

**Author's Note:**

> ......Yeah. Something about the election broke my brain and dragged me back into VLD hell, and this is the result. It's just 9k of smut. I'm not going to apologize for anything.

Sendak was at the door a quarter to midnight, by Shiro’s reckoning. 

He was right on time, actually— Shiro wasn’t a night owl, hadn’t been before Kerberos, but the year he’d lost had done something weird to his sleep schedule. It wasn’t a constant thing by any means. Some nights he’d just crash, other nights he’d go to bed at what _would_ be nine by Earth’s clock, and the next thing he’d know he’d be snapping awake at eleven-thirty almost on the dot, and be stuck wide awake for the better part of an hour or two. And not _comfortably_ awake, either— he’d lie tense and clammy until he was too tired to keep his eyes open.

Having something to _wait_ for actually seemed to help, though, and Shiro was already armored up by the time the knock came. He placed his palm against the access panel, grinning up at Sendak as the door slid open.

The Galra arched a brow, ears tilting inquisitively. “Sparring tonight, then?”

Shiro gave him the once-over. Sendak, clearly, wasn’t dressed for a fight— he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, in loose-fitting black pants and a shirt that clung _exquisitely_ to his broad shoulders and powerful chest.

“Yeah,” Shiro said, tearing his eyes away and redirecting them up to Sendak’s face. “Tonight’s a bad one, I think.”

“Rough dreams already?” Sendak asked. He stepped aside, letting Shiro past out into the hallway, and set a hand on his lower back to steer him towards the elevator. He’d laid his palm across the small of Shiro’s back, where the plate didn’t cover, and his touch felt hot even through the thickness of his undersuit.

Shiro shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. “Never got to sleep deeply enough to dream,” he said, which was true. The few times he’d slipped under, he’d woken with his chest tight and his body tangled in his sheets like they were trying to murder him.

The hand on his back slid around to his side, and Sendak pulled him in close. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. Then, “You know, if you’d like me to stay with you, all you have to do is ask.”

Shiro flushed. Sendak’s hand was big enough to cover his hip and most of his side, fingers pressed gently but firmly against his obliques, and the heat of his body on the other side was protective. Part of him wanted to curl into it, to forget about the sparring and drag him to bed.

He elbowed Sendak in the ribcage instead. “Nah, you’ll just roll over in the middle of the night and squish me,” he said. “My bed’s not big enough for the two of us.”

“You _could_ always come to my quarters, my light,” Sendak lilted back, and Shiro laughed and pulled free, bounding a couple paces ahead and turning around to face Sendak as he went. Sendak was grinning, just the faintest hint of fangs, his ears alert.

“Yeah, and then the _kids_ would figure it out,” Shiro retorted. “Remember how bad Lance was the time he caught me kissing you?”

“He called you a ‘furry’ and wouldn’t shut up about it for a _movement_ ,” Sendak said, and flicked his ears the way Shiro knew meant he’d rolled his eyes in irritation.

“He’d be _worse_ if he thought I’d _slept_ with you,” Shiro said.

“He’s irritating regardless,” Sendak replied. “And anyway, what would the problem be? We’re courting, I think I’m entitled to spend the night with— _oh_ , this is one of your weird sex taboos, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Shiro said. 

His face had gone hot again. Galra had no such taboos around sexuality— though Sendak had yet to make any sort of advances. It was odd; his last partners on Earth hadn’t hesitated to push things, but Sendak didn’t seem inclined to take their relationship any further than the occasional makeout.

He almost seemed to be waiting for something.

They’d reached the elevator by that point, and Shiro tapped at the control panel, directing it to take them down to the level with the training deck and trying to take his mind off it. Some people took things more slowly than others, and that was _fine_ . Nothing to worry about. They were going to spar anyway, and that was _plenty_ of physicality— and Sendak seemed to enjoy being pushed around and manhandled, so they’d both get what they wanted out of it.

Still, the elevator felt smaller than it usually did on the way down, like Sendak took up more space— or like there was less space to be had. He leaned up against Sendak to ignore it, fitting himself comfortably against his side. Sendak’s arm wrapped around him again, seemingly unfazed by the way Shiro’s pauldron had to be digging into his ribs. His presence was steadying, even if the way his hand had come to rest against Shiro’s hip again definitely _wasn’t_.

The doors opened, and Shiro took Sendak’s hand instead, leading him down the hallway towards the training deck. At this time of night it really should have been the other way around— during the Castle’s night cycle, most of the lights outside of living spaces dimmed or turned off entirely to conserve energy, and Sendak’s vision was made for low light— but the Galra didn’t seem to mind, and Shiro would know the way by touch alone at this point. Sendak reached out past him to the access panel for the training deck when they reached it, activating the door and turning up the lights before Shiro could even put a hand out. Shiro huffed at him, mock-irritated, and Sendak huffed a little laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of Shiro’s head.

Then he stepped out and past, into the lights of the training deck. His eye was shining, the whole line of his body alert, taut with energy.

“I’m going to put my armor on,” he said, and took another bouncing step back. “I’ll be right back, love.”

And then he was gone, turned on his heel and darting across the training deck towards the locker rooms on the other side.

Shiro buried his face in his hands. He could _picture_ Sendak armoring up— he’d seen it often enough, the shimmy of his hips as he slipped into his undersuit, deft hands buckling hidden latches on his heavy armor. He was always quick about it; decades of practice would do that to you.

Shiro had thought, often, about peeling him _out_ of that armor.

He paced out into the center of the training deck instead and began stretching. He’d stretched already, while he was waiting for Sendak, but knowing how _hard_ the Galra went, a little extra couldn’t possibly hurt. It was a distraction, anyway. One that held his attention until he heard the soft clack of Sendak’s boots on the floor, and looked out from between his legs as Sendak emerged from the locker rooms. They’d repainted his old armor some time ago, but Shiro never got used to the sleek black and true crimson in place of dull commander’s orange.

It _did_ flatter him though, especially under the training deck’s harsh lights. Sendak crossed his arms over his chest, a brow arching, and Shiro felt himself flush again.

“ _Someone’s_ unprepared, it seems,” Sendak said wryly, and made his way over, a grin crossing his face. “It would be _so_ easy to knock you on your ass right now, darling.”

“Bet,” Shiro said, straightening. 

Sendak’s grin widened, flashing teeth at him. “Oh, you’re _asking_ for it tonight.”

He lunged. Shiro scampered aside, swallowing a laugh as Sendak skidded to a stop a couple feet away. The Galra’s teeth were bared in a fanged, delighted grin. He lunged again. Shiro ducked, and this time he _did_ laugh.

“Seriously?” Sendak huffed. He _definitely_ wasn’t angry, not with his ears tilted up like that. Shiro grinned back at him.

“Seriously,” Shiro said, and set a stance, legs braced to counter Sendak’s next rush.

Sendak’s ears twitched, flattening, and something curled hot in Shiro’s gut as his upper lip curled. He began to circle to Shiro’s left, all feline grace that belied his incredible size. Shiro turned with him, watching. Waiting.

That liquid stride broke, and Sendak charged him like a freight train. Shiro stepped aside, grabbing at the front of Sendak’s collar. Got hold with his prosthetic and _yanked_ , sending Sendak staggering. The Galra rolled and popped back up laughing, practically dancing around to Shiro’s right. Shiro activated his prosthetic and lunged in turn, throwing an uppercut. Sendak swayed back, came up inside the punch.

His shoulder caught Shiro in the sternum and hurled him backwards across the floor. Shiro hit the ground with a yelp and rolled, kicking up on blind instinct. Planted a boot in Sendak’s gut and heard the air _whoomph_ from his lungs. He reached up with his left hand, grabbing a fistful of ruff and rolling with their momentum. Sendak squeaked and kept rolling, slamming Shiro back against the ground.

He was laughing. The jackass. Shiro headbutted him right between the eyes. Sendak reared back, and Shiro scrambled free as his grip broke, shaking his head to clear it.

Sendak pouted up at him, still kneeling on the floor. “You didn’t say we were playing _dirty_ tonight,” he said, the sulk evident in his tone, and it took everything in Shiro not to launch himself at Sendak and kiss the pout off his lips.

“Never said we were playing _fair_ either,” he replied, and Sendak’s pout deepened.

“Bully,” he muttered, and sprang back to his feet. His ears had gone _flat_ , stride shortening as he began to circle again, and Shiro grimaced. Sendak could get downright _mean_ when taken by surprise in a sparring match, and they were clearly getting close.

He backed carefully out of range, fists clenched and braced to either grapple or dodge, depending on Sendak’s next move. Sendak continued to pace. His eye had narrowed. He’d slowed as well, his circle tightening. Shiro had the impression of a noose. Sendak wouldn’t hurt him, he knew that, but a bolt of adrenaline had lightning curling through his veins regardless.

Sendak lunged forward, throwing a punch. Shiro ducked it, popped up inside the blow— and slammed into Sendak’s organic forearm full tilt. He’d blocked. Shiro reeled back, trying to get out of range. Sendak’s wrist flicked, grabbed hold of Shiro’s collar.

The world spun, and the next thing he knew he was pinned against Sendak’s chest, dangling a foot off the ground. Sendak’s prosthetic pressed a steel bar across his middle, and his claws pricked at Shiro’s throat, just shy of drawing blood.

“Is that unfair enough for you, darling?” Sendak purred, directly into his ear. Shiro groaned. Sendak’s voice always _did things_ to him, especially in that low, steely register. The Galra gave a low chuckle Shiro felt more than he heard, resonating through his breastplate to slide home under his sternum. Lips brushed the side of his neck, along his hairline. “Or would you like me to play more gently with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s enough,” Shiro gasped out. “You can put me down now, asshole. You’re squishing me.”

Sendak hummed, pressing a kiss to his nape. “Mm, are you sure about that?”

Shiro grimaced. He’d gone _very_ hot under the collar of his uniform, and the gentle, omnipresent pressure of Sendak’s claws there was _not_ helping in any way. “I’m sure,” he said. “Seriously. One more round.”

Sendak huffed out a laugh more air than sound and gently lowered him to the floor, then stepped back out of range. Shiro missed him immediately— the heat of Sendak’s body against him had been _delicious_ — but he steeled himself and turned to face the Galra anyway. Sendak’s head tilted, obviously giving him a concerned once-over, but he’d settled into a fighting stance already.

_That_ said plenty. Shiro began to circle in turn, pacing slowly to Sendak’s right and edging forward as he did. Sendak’s right ear twitched— with his cybernetic eye still short a focusing lens, he was blind on that side, and both of them knew it. The Galra took a half step back. Towards the wall.

Just like Shiro intended.

He changed directions, circling back around into Sendak’s field of vision and edging closer, letting him back up another pace. And then another. Sendak’s ears twitched and flicked, suggesting he was looking around— from Shiro towards the wall and back again. The muscles in his thighs bunched.

Shiro hissed a sharp breath. If Sendak turned and ran, that wall would be a _platform_ for a sixteen foot vertical leap. Sendak took another half-step back, and Shiro saw his hips _twist_ —

He lunged forward, head lowered and arms spread, and caught Sendak across his abdomen. The Galra yelped. Staggered. His momentum hurled them backwards, off-balance. Sendak struck the ground with a crash Shiro felt in his jaw, and he loosened his grip as Sendak tried to roll, shifting to stay on top of him. 

Sendak _snarled_. 

Shiro lunged up his body as he rolled back over, trying to get his legs under him. Got a handful of Sendak’s ruff and planted himself on the Galra’s chest. Sendak arched beneath him, rumbling and trying to buck him off.

Shiro caught hold of his chin with his free hand and kissed him savagely. Sendak gave a muffled, startled whine against his mouth, letting Shiro nip at his lower lip. He stilled abruptly, though his chest heaved beneath Shiro as he panted for breath. Shiro let him, getting a better grip on his jaw and tilting Sendak’s head to kiss him more deeply. Sendak’s lips parted. Yielding.

“So _that’s_ what this was about,” Sendak panted, half-breathless, when Shiro relented. “Love, if you wanted to have sex, you could have said something back in your quarters.”

Shiro felt his face and ears go hot. “I— _um_ ,” he started. “Well, I _didn’t_ know before we got down here—”

“Mm,” Sendak said. He raised a hand— Shiro hadn’t noticed the way his claws had torn gouges into the floor before that moment— and ran it gently down Shiro’s back, pausing at his lower back, not quite low enough to qualify as a grope. “Your scent changed earlier. I’d _wondered_ what that was.”

Shiro’s face heated further, the warmth spreading down over his throat. Sendak chuckled and kissed him again, more gently. His other hand came up, joining the first at Shiro’s waist, and the next thing he knew Sendak had sat up, leaving him sprawled across the Galra’s broad lap, one leg thrown to either side of his hips. Another kiss, still gentle. Not demanding, not urgent. Not like the heat curling low in Shiro’s stomach.

“You’re _awful_ ,” he muttered, stealing another kiss.

“You love me anyway,” Sendak replied. His right hand left Shiro’s waist, coming up to cradle his cheek and pull him closer, pressing their brows together. He was purring, low and deep in his chest, and pressed up against him Shiro could feel it all the way down to his bones.

“Yeah,” Shiro said quietly, letting his eyes fall closed a moment.

Silence, save for the sound of Sendak’s purring.

Then, abruptly, the hand at Shiro’s waist changed position— Sendak wrapped his arm around Shiro’s hips and stood, lifting him like he weighed nothing at all. Shiro yelped, grabbing hold of the collar of Sendak’s armor for stability. Sendak laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.

“It’s alright, darling,” Sendak purred. “I’ve got you.” His eye was half-closed, that squinty-eyed look of smug satisfaction that always left Shiro torn between smacking him and begging for more of his attention.

“Do I even _weigh_ anything to you?” Shiro asked.

Sendak hummed, making his way across the training deck towards the door. “A little thing like you? Mm, not really.”

Shiro huffed a protest, but settled in Sendak’s embrace, letting the Galra carry him back towards the elevator. Hot desire pooled in his stomach again— that all-too-casual show of strength _always_ did it to him— and he _hated_ the armor keeping him from pressing against the bulk of Sendak’s body, from getting to _touch_ and _feel_.

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Sendak’s grip shifted. Shiro barely got a look at the wicked glint in his eye before his back slammed up against the elevator wall, hemmed in by Sendak’s arms. He shifted, wrapping his thighs around Sendak’s waist to pull him in. He could barely lock his ankles at the small of Sendak’s back.

He did it anyway, tugging him closer and grinding against his stomach, unable to stifle the whine in the back of his throat.

“Enjoying yourself, my light?” Sendak asked. 

Shiro decided not to _care_ about the smugness in his tone, grabbing hold of the fur at his jawline and towing him in for another rough kiss. Sendak laughed against his mouth, pressing him more firmly against the wall. Shiro rolled his hips again.

“Yeah,” he huffed, breaking the kiss. “You have _no_ idea how long I wanted this.”

“You certainly took your time initiating it,” Sendak said, claiming his mouth again. Shiro groaned in frustration and bit his lip, enjoying the way Sendak squeaked.

“Thought _you_ would,” he answered, and got a hold of Sendak’s ruff, tilting his head to kiss him more deeply. Sendak was a _good_ kisser, but it wasn’t _enough_. Always too gentle.

“Mm,” Sendak said, half-muffled. “Not worth it. The orgasms are nice, but it’s always _such_ a mess.”

Shiro tensed. Sendak kissed him again, firmly, but his mind was whirling.

“If you don’t want it, we don’t have to,” he said, when they broke apart.

Sendak huffed. “If I wasn’t alright with it, I wouldn’t let you _get_ this far,” he said. “I _can_ say no. I’m choosing not to. You want it, and it pleases me to please you.”

“Ah,” Shiro said, and let Sendak pull him in for another kiss. He didn’t _quite_ understand it, but—

Sendak rocked against him, and Shiro let his head fall back, groaning. He wasn’t sure _when_ he’d gotten hard, but he _was_ , achingly so, trapped between his body and Sendak’s. The Galra took immediate advantage, kissing and nuzzling against Shiro’s throat. Teeth pressed ever so gently over his pulse, and Sendak rolled his hips again.

Shiro fisted his hands in Sendak’s mane and moaned.

“Sen, I’m gonna—”

“ _Good_ ,” Sendak purred. His lips trailed higher, pressing toothy kisses against the tender underside of Shiro’s jaw. Shiro’s hips jerked, grinding harder despite himself. “You can come whenever you like, my love.”

Shiro shuddered. His grip on Sendak’s fur tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back.

To no avail. Sendak ground persistently against him, escalating to gentle nips at his throat, his jaw. The heat built. Shiro whined a half-hearted complaint— quickly muffled by Sendak’s kiss. Those sharp teeth caught his lower lip, nearly hard enough to break skin—

Shiro came with a stifled whimper, just as the elevator came to a stop at their floor. He clung to Sendak, panting and whimpering in his arms, oversensitive where he was still pressed against the Galra’s body. Sendak kissed him again, sweetly, and shifted his grip to carry him more easily out of the elevator.

Shiro shuddered, wrapping his arms around Sendak’s neck. He felt _loose_ , almost disoriented by it all. He knew they were moving, could tell by the turn to the right from the elevator that they were going to _his_ room, rather than Sendak’s to the left, but none of it seemed to matter much until Sendak dropped him gently on his bed. Hands worked at Shiro’s armor, and he roused himself as Sendak unbuckled his breastplate and set it aside. He looked _smug_ , and embarrassment and arousal curled hotly in Shiro’s stomach.

“Well?” Sendak asked, ears tilting. “That seemed like a good one, love.”

“I...yeah,” Shiro said. “...Sorry about that. I should have waited.”

Sendak huffed, amused, and kissed him again. His hands had moved to unbuckling the armor on Shiro’s arms, running gently up his shoulders as he finished to cup his cheeks. “Nothing wrong with getting things started before we reached the bedroom,” he said. “Besides, you deserved it. You’re wound tight, darling.”

“No, I mean—” Shiro started. 

He squeaked as Sendak’s hands closed around one of his thighs, unbuckling the armor there, then shifted uncomfortably. The inside of his suit was _wet_ , clinging awkwardly to his inner thighs. Sendak peered up at him, a toothy grin darting across his face, and settled to kneel between his legs as he continued to strip Shiro of his armor. He leaned in as he did, nipping at the inside of Shiro’s thigh and making him squeak at the pinch of teeth through his undersuit, then nuzzled up against his groin, mouthing at him through the fabric. Shiro whimpered, pressing at Sendak’s shoulder with his foot.

“ _Hey_ ,” he protested, more a whine than anything else. “Too fast, I _just_ came.”

Sendak paused, then settled back on his heels. “...Is that a problem?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Shiro said. “I’m not gonna be able to get it up again for, like, twenty minutes. That’s why I should have waited.”

“...Ah,” Sendak said. “I suppose I should have asked first.” His hands had kept working, moving to unbuckle the armor on Shiro’s other leg and petting gently over his thigh.

Shiro groaned, flopping back on the mattress. “Let me guess. Galra can just go again _immediately_ after you have an orgasm.”

“Essentially,” Sendak said. Shiro felt him press a kiss against his hipbone. “Oh, well. I suppose that means we have twenty minutes to spend...ah, _familiarizing_ ourselves with each other, then. Now that you aren’t all strung out and panting for me.”

“You’re _terrible_ ,” Shiro muttered, and pushed at Sendak’s shoulder again.

Sendak laughed, and the next thing Shiro knew he’d planted his hands on either side of his shoulders, looming over him. He was grinning, almost lazily, and Shiro reached up to wrap his arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

“You love me anyway,” he purred, when they pulled apart. “Now come on, darling, let’s get you out of this suit. That _can’t_ be comfortable.”

Shiro hummed and sat himself up, pushing Sendak back gently so he had room to work, and unzipped his undersuit down the front, then began peeling it off. He’d been nuder or partly nude around Sendak before— Galra didn’t really care, and Sendak hadn’t seemed to notice at the time— but he felt more exposed now, as he shimmied the clinging uniform down off his hips. Sendak stepped back as he kicked his way out of it and tossed it aside, towards the laundry chute, then settled between his legs again, his gaze on Shiro’s face. He wasn’t touching, not yet— he seemed almost to be _waiting_ for something.

“C’mon,” Shiro said. “I took mine off. Are you going to undress, or were you just planning on keeping your armor on while we fuck?”

“What, would you like me to?” Sendak asked, grinning. “Is that a fantasy of yours, love?” He paused, then reached up and began to unclasp his pauldrons. “....Or perhaps you’d like me to put on a little show for you…”

Shiro swallowed, hard, and he felt his cock twitch where it rested soft against his thigh. Sendak’s ears tilted, and he arched a brow, a little smirk playing across his features. Shiro resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him.

It paid off. Sendak took another half-step back and removed his pauldrons, then the armor from his upper arm, then his vambrace. His breastplate hissed softly as he removed it, and Shiro bit his lip, watching the muscular twist of Sendak’s body as he removed it and laid it aside. Sendak met his gaze again, tilting his ears forward, and smoothed his hands down over his still-clothed stomach, down to unbuckle the armor at his thighs. Shiro tightened his grip on the bedsheets. The undersuit pressed Sendak’s thick fur flat against his body, more readily showing off the powerful musculature underneath— and Sendak was a limber, graceful thing, moving with sinuous ease as he divested himself at last of his boots.

He paused then, straightened, and unzipped his own undersuit, sliding it slowly down over his chest and abdomen to its terminus just above his pelvis. Thick lavender fur spilled through the gap. Sendak reached up and slid the suit off his shoulders, shrugging his powerful arm and gleaming prosthetic free of the clinging grey fabric. The move bared acres of shoulder, _miles_ of chest. Sendak paused again when he’d folded it down to his hips, meeting Shiro’s gaze intently, and hooked his thumbs under the waistband, then began to slide his suit down over his hips. Shiro bit his lip again, harder this time.

The suit seemed to loosen once Sendak had it down off his thighs, and he stepped forward out of it, leaving it puddled on the floor behind him as he made his way back to the bed and pulled Shiro up into a kiss. Shiro grabbed handfuls of his ruff and towed him in, relishing the thick, silky fur under his hands, then ran them down over his chest. His fingers traced the wide patch of scar tissue on Sendak’s left side, where the fur had never grown back.

Then, abruptly, Sendak got his hands under Shiro’s ass and rolled them over, scooping him up into his lap as he did. Shiro yelped, grabbing at his shoulders again, and shot him a dirty look.

“You’re a little _shit_ this evening,” he huffed.

Sendak grinned. “I know,” he said. His thighs tensed under Shiro, and that was all the warning he got before Sendak spread his legs, dropping him back onto the mattress. He scooted back a little bit, splaying his thighs further. “Now, I know what _you’ve_ got, and I know humans have multiple sexes so I’m assuming the penis is everything? So you’re at a bit of a disadvantage here.”

Shiro snorted. “What, you gonna show me what you’re packing?”

“If you’re interested,” Sendak said. His fingers traced down over his pubis mons, framing something half-hidden by fur where, as Shiro recalled, a human would have a clit. “Sheath here,” Sendak said. “My dick is internal until I’m properly stimulated, so you _probably_ won’t see it tonight. I _doubt_ it would fit you.” Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but Sendak ignored him, running his fingers further down, over the flushed blue-violet folds peeking out between his thighs. “Vagina here. Obviously. And you can guess where the anus is, but I would _prefer_ if you didn’t put anything in it, that’s _not_ my preferred way to have sex.”

Shiro’s face was hot, and he realized a moment later— when Sendak chuckled at him— that he was blushing.

“...Maybe I _want_ to see your dick,” Shiro muttered.

Sendak burst out laughing, flopping back on the mattress and hiding his face in a pillow.

“I’m serious!” Shiro said, climbing up to perch himself on Sendak’s chest. “You’ve seen _mine_ , I get to see yours.”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Sendak wheezed, peeking up at Shiro from the pillow. He was teary-eyed from laughter, but the rest of his expression was all too pleased. “But you’re going to have to get off me, darling. I want to see the _look_ on your face when you get what you asked for.”

Shiro arched a brow at him, but climbed off, settling back down between Sendak’s thighs. Sendak smirked back down at him, shifting a leg to brace his foot against the mattress, and bracketed his fingers at his pubis mons again, this time _parting_ them—

There was another entrance there, half-hidden by Sendak’s thick fur. Shiro caught a glimpse of slick, bluish folds like a second set of labia there as the Galra stroked down, then back up. Sendak made a soft sound in the back of his throat and did it again, and again. On the fifth stroke those folds parted, spreading open as the head of Sendak’s cock emerged. Sendak pressed the heel of his hand against it, turning his face aside to stifle a moan as the rest of his length everted in a rush.

Shiro’s very first thought was that he’d seen something similar on a novelty dildo site back on earth. His second was disappointment— apparently Sendak _hadn’t_ been exaggerating, unlike most of the guys Shiro had been with. His cock was the same length as Shiro’s forearm, and nearly as thick at the base, where it stretched the entrance of his sheath wide and flushed. The length of it was covered in ridges the same deep violet as the rest of Sendak’s skin, while the head and the undersides of those ridges were a pale blue-violet. Sendak stroked easily down his length, his hand coming to rest just above the base, thumb pressed against the underside of the second ridge from the top. A full-body shiver ran through him.

“W-well?” Sendak asked, breathless. “Like what you see?”

He wasn’t even looking, his face pressed into Shiro’s pillow. The tops of his ears, where his fur was finest, had blushed blue.

“...Do you mind if I touch you?” Shiro asked, and scooted forward, laying a hand against the inner thigh of the leg Sendak had bent to show off.

Sendak gave another full-body shiver, and Shiro bit back a grin and trailed his hand down the length of the Galra’s thigh. “If you want to,” he breathed.

Shiro hummed and gently nudged Sendak’s hand out of the way, cupping the base of his cock himself. A bare inch or so separated Shiro’s thumb and middle finger from closing around it. It was hot to the touch, and the dark ridges were firm under Shiro’s palm— five of them, each growing larger from tip to base. The bluish skin on the underside was softer, and Sendak gave a stifled groan as Shiro pressed his thumb into the gap between the fourth and fifth ridge. Shiro smirked at the response and tightened his grip, stroking firmly up to the head of Sendak’s cock.

_That_ earned him a moan, and Sendak’s hips twitched, bucking up into Shiro’s hand.

Shiro grinned. “You think you can stay still for me, Sen? I wanna try something.”

Sendak nodded, but didn’t answer him verbally for almost a minute, his mouth opening as if to speak before he’d cut himself off. A thin whine escaped him, and he turned his face away again. “Sorry,” he breathed. “Sensitive. _Yes_ , please, I’ll be good I _promise_ —”

Shiro hummed again and gave him another slow, firm stroke, unable to help the delighted grin that crossed his face as Sendak moaned into the pillow. “...Good boy,” he said.

Sendak _whimpered_ . “You’re going to _kill_ me.”

“Call it payback for the elevator,” Shiro said, and bent, pressing his lips against the head of Sendak’s cock in a teasing kiss.

That earned him another shudder and a needy whine. Shiro grinned and took the head of his cock into his mouth until his lips bumped against the first ridge, and held it there, running his tongue gently over the underside. His taste was sweet-salty, and when Shiro ran his hand along the shaft again he was _slick_ — must have a gland somewhere producing it, he thought. He tilted his head to peer up at Sendak’s face, smirking at the way the fur of his ruff had fluffed up under the stimulation. Another stroke, and Sendak gave him another pleading, wordless whine.

_God_ , he was cute like that. And it was nice to see the tables so thoroughly turned.

Shiro settled in in earnest, sucking gently at the head of Sendak’s cock and continuing his strokes, keeping a firm, measured pace and _relishing_ the breathless little noises he made, the slight shifts of his hips. Hot arousal curled in his own stomach, but he ignored it, tightening his grip until Sendak wailed. On the next stroke he opened his mouth further, sinking down over the first ridge until his jaw ached. Sendak was too big to take any farther. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the space between the bottom of the head and the top of the first ridge, earning a high-pitched whimper of his name in response. 

One of Sendak’s hands, the organic one, came up to rest on the top of his head, fingers curling through the longer hair on his undercut. Not a demanding grip. Not even forcing him to stay down— which Shiro appreciated, as he pulled back to take the strain off his jaw. Sendak’s broad, hot palm trembled against him. Shiro stroked his inner thigh with his free hand in response, pulling off to coo up at him.

“You’re doing good,” he murmured, leaning back in to press kisses along the side of Sendak’s shaft and relishing his whimpers. “I was worried you’d start trying to move on me, but you know that wouldn’t end well, don’t you.”

He glanced up as he neared the base, in time to watch Sendak gather himself enough to nod in response, and stroked his inner thigh again.

“That’s right,” he said. “You don’t want to hurt me. Good boy.”

Sendak _keened_ for him. Shiro grinned and stroked his length again, leaning in to mouth at the base of his cock where it met his sheath. Sendak was slick _there_ too, and Shiro opened his mouth further, running his tongue over the almost-labia at his entrance. There was _give_ — his rim yielded ever so slightly, letting him slot his tongue almost _between_ it and Sendak’s cock. Sendak’s thighs went taut on either side of his head, and he moaned above him.

Now _there_ was an idea.

Shiro pulled back, coming up to cradle the head of Sendak’s cock between his lips again, and gave him another firm stroke. But instead of coming back up when he reached the base, he twisted his wrist, laying his palm flat against the underside of Sendak’s cock and straightening his index and middle fingers, pressing them against the space between the final ridge and the sheath. Sendak groaned above him, and Shiro glanced up at him.

Sendak had, somehow, extracted his face from the pillows and was looking directly at him. His face was flushed, ears lowered, mouth open and panting every breath.

Something about his expression said he _knew_ what Shiro was about to do to him.

Shiro smirked up at him and, ever so gently, pressed his fingers into Sendak’s sheath.

Sendak _wailed_. Shiro kept going, as Sendak spasmed around him and almost clenched on the intrusion. He was slick, and the buried underside of his cock was soft to the touch. Shiro crooked his fingers, pressing them firmly against him, earning another shout of pleasure. The hand on Shiro’s head pulled away, and Shiro saw how the tendons on the back stood out as Sendak sank his claws into the blankets. His cock twitched in Shiro’s mouth, and his hips trembled, whole body quivering as if electrified.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t come, either.

Shiro crooked his fingers again. Sendak spasmed beneath him, whimpering his name between clenched teeth. He sank down over the first ridge again, unable to keep his teeth from dragging lightly over it as Sendak twitched and shuddered. Not that he seemed to mind. Sendak had squeezed his eye shut again, and every breath was a whimpered plea. Shiro’s fingers curled, this time _rubbing_ against the underside of Sendak’s cock, and pressed his tongue back into the unguarded space between the head and the first ridge.

_That_ did it.

He pulled off, fast, and stroked Sendak through his climax until he began to struggle, trying to shift his hips away from Shiro, cries of pleasure turning to protest. Shiro was tempted for a moment to keep going— Sendak had _said_ there was no refractory period, after all— but he pulled his fingers gently from Sendak’s sheath, giving him another long, slow stroke as the Galra shuddered and whined beneath him.

“There we go,” Shiro said, and released him. 

He scrambled forward, trying not to accidentally clip Sendak anywhere sensitive, and settled against his chest, kissing him sweetly. Sendak hummed, not quite an answer, and managed to reciprocate on the second kiss. An arm wrapped around Shiro’s shoulders— the prosthetic, not the organic one— pulling him closer.

“That was _mean_ ,” Sendak breathed against his lips. “I didn’t do _that_ to you.”

“No, but you _were_ a little shit about it,” Shiro said. “You didn’t tell me you’re _this_ cute when you’re needy.”

Sendak huffed at him. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said, ears flicking. “But I hope you realize I’m going to pay you back for this, love.”

The arm around Shiro’s shoulders tightened.

That was all the warning he got before Sendak rolled them over, pinning him flat to the mattress. Shiro yelped and shoved up with his knees, pushing against Sendak’s chest, but to no avail. The Galra was _heavy_ , and _much_ stronger than him, and he bore down on Shiro, kissing him with sweet ferocity. Those great teeth pressed sharp against Shiro’s mouth but never broke skin.

“ _Hey_ ,” Shiro said, half-protesting.

Sendak pulled back to let him breathe, still smirking. “Oh, love. You should have kept me overstimulated if you wanted me obedient,” he said.

“Oh _no_ ,” Shiro said dryly. “You’ve got me trapped and at your mercy, what _else_ are you going to put me through.”

“Nothing _unpleasant_ ,” Sendak said, but he was still smirking. “But we _are_ going to see what other things that mouth can do, besides suck cock and sass me.”

“...You’re going to sit on my face, aren’t you,” Shiro said, eyeing him.

Sendak’s grin widened, and he leaned in and kissed Shiro again. This one felt like a reward. “I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to eat me out until I’m ready to sit on your cock instead,” he purred.

Shiro shivered, hands fisting in Sendak’s ruff. Just his _tone_ sent another hot bolt of arousal through him, and he felt his cock stir. He took a deep breath and relinquished his grip, stealing a second kiss.

“Alright,” he said. “But if you put me in the med bay I’m going to let the kids make fun of you.”

“Gods _forbid_ ,” Sendak said. He leaned in for another kiss, stroking Shiro’s cheek tenderly. “Trust me, my light. You won’t be in any danger.”

Then he sat up, pulling away from any more kisses, and Shiro nearly pouted. His bulk had settled just over Shiro’s waist— he could feel the soft, ticklish brush of the fur on the back of Sendak’s thighs against his stomach. Sendak shifted his weight, easing himself forward, and once again Shiro found himself marvelling at the delicacy of his movements. Within moments, those massive thighs settled on either side of his head.

Shiro swallowed hard. He forgot, sometimes, the sheer _scale_ of Sendak. Each of those thighs had to be nearly as big around as Shiro’s waist.

“Ready, darling?” Sendak asked from above him. Shiro tilted his head back to look, squinting against the light silhouetting Sendak’s head and shoulders. It was hard to tell, but Shiro thought he might be smirking again.

Something hot curled in his gut. He wanted to wipe that smirk clear off Sendak’s face.

“I’m ready,” he said, and wrapped his arms around Sendak’s thighs, pulling him down.

Sendak gave a delighted laugh above him— and then cut off with a high-pitched squeak as Shiro ran his tongue over his folds. He was wet already, Shiro noted, and those broad thighs quivered against his grip. Shiro licked him again firmly, parting the labia with his tongue. A second set of folds stymied him a moment, and then— the clenched ring of Sendak’s entrance. A gasp from above said he was doing something right. He pressed his tongue against, not yet pushing in, and Sendak gave a whine of complaint.

Something swelled against his tongue at the next stroke, a ridge of soft tissue around his entrance. Sendak whimpered when Shiro teased it experimentally, a hand fisting in the sheets above Shiro’s head. He paused, then did it again, flicking and teasing against the ridges and earning a keen and renewed wetness against his face. He tightened his grip on Sendak’s thighs, pulling him down so he couldn’t squirm away.

“ _Shiro_ —” Sendak whined above him. His hips jerked, grinding down.

Shiro grinned and pressed his tongue more firmly against Sendak’s entrance. The ring of muscle yielded for him, letting him press in. Sendak moaned above him, hips twitching again. Not quite a grind, but he could feel the trembling of the muscle in Sendak’s thighs. His skin felt hot under Shiro’s palms. He pressed deeper, not quite thrusting with his tongue. Sendak gave another sharp moan above him. The sheet beside his head gave an alarming creak, then gave as claws tore through it. Shiro’s cock twitched. He ignored it, pressing the advantage as Sendak whimpered above him.

Sendak came undone for him not a minute later, grinding down hard against his face and shuddering through his climax, followed by a rush of wetness. His thighs were still trembling as he lifted off, too strong for Shiro to hold him down— not that he minded. It gave him time to catch his breath.

Sendak slid back, much less gracefully now— or perhaps it was on purpose, a light grind against Shiro’s stomach that made his hips jerk with need. The Galra bent, kissing him fervently, seemingly ignorant of his own slick on Shiro’s face.

“Good,” Sendak purred. His breathing was still ragged. Shiro reached up and wrapped his arms around Sendak’s neck to hold him close. “ _Very_ good. And you—”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Shiro said, and stole another kiss, biting Sendak gently on the lip. Sendak whined and squirmed, half-grinding against his stomach.

“ _Gods_ ,” Sendak breathed when Shiro released him. “I can’t decide if I want to ride you until you break, or let you hold me down and do the same to _me_.”

“How about I decide for you, then?” Shiro asked, and grinned when Sendak’s face flushed. “C’mon. Roll over, Sen.”

Sendak’s ears blued further, but he obliged, rolling over onto his back and pulling Shiro with him. Shiro released him and sat up, surveying Sendak’s sprawl, his parted lips, the way his chest still heaved gently. The wet fur at the apex of his thighs.

“You’re too fucking tall,” he muttered, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Sendak laughed against his lips. “Maybe _you’re_ too little, love,” he said, his eye alight.

“Asshole,” Shiro murmured back. 

He leaned his weight against Sendak’s chest, pushing him back on the mattress, then settled back between his thighs. His fingers traced over Sendak’s folds, earning a gasp. Sendak’s head fell back, baring the length of his throat.

“Come _on_ ,” Sendak gasped. “No teasing, _please_ , Shiro?”

“I don’t know, are you going to behave?” Shiro asked.

He pressed his fingertips hard against the still-raised ridge around Sendak’s entrance as he asked. Sendak squeaked and subsided, ears lowered deferentially. Shiro chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to his knee, teasing his index and middle finger against him until the Galra whined and squirmed, trying to arch up into the touch. He’d gone hot again, every inch of the places their bodies pressed together burned against Shiro’s skin.

“Good boy,” Shiro said, and pressed two fingers into him.

Sendak gasped. His head fell back again, back arching, and Shiro pressed deeper, crooking his fingers. The inside of Sendak’s sex felt oddly _ridged_ , almost an inverse of the ones on his cock—

The instant the thought occurred to him, his fingers slotted against something that earned him a _scream_. Sendak clenched on him hard, gushing slick around his fingers. Shiro paused, then did it again, earning another sharp cry and Sendak’s hips jerking, grinding his folds down against Shiro’s palm and trying to rock into the touch. Sendak whined another plea.

Shiro hummed, not quite wanting to tell Sendak to wait, scissoring his fingers gently. Sendak could likely take him as he was, and he was ready for it— his cock had risen from half-mast to fully erect, nearly bobbing against his stomach.

“Shit,” he said. “Sendak, did we—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sendak huffed. One of his calves pressed hot against Shiro’s back, pulling him in. “I’ve been on birth control longer than you’ve been alive. Just _fuck_ me already.”

The statement was demanding, but his _tone_ was half whine and half plea, and his legs fell a little further open, thighs spread so widely they rested nearly flat against the mattress. Shiro pulled his fingers free, ignoring Sendak’s whine, and stroked his own length, slicking himself with what clung to his hand. The simple touch curled heat down his spine, and Shiro bit his lip and leaned forward, pressing the head of his cock against Sendak’s entrance.

Sendak grumbled something at him that didn’t translate and rolled his hips down, taking Shiro nearly to the base in a single thrust.

Shiro yelped and grabbed hold of Sendak’s hips, trying to still him. He was trembling. Sendak clenched hotly around him, sighing quietly beneath him, still giving gentle shifts of his hips. Impatient. Shiro shuddered and tried to ground himself, leaning forward until his brow pressed against Sendak’s chest.

“ _Please_ ,” Sendak whined. Fingers carded through Shiro’s hair, claws tracing tenderly over his nape. “Please, Shiro.”

Shiro took a deep, steadying breath, and began to thrust. His head spun, need curling low in his belly as Sendak arched beneath him. His fingers worked over the ridge at Sendak’s entrance, and he tried to aim his thrusts at the spot that had made Sendak scream for him before, earning himself breathy, pleading moans and cries. He pressed his face hard against Sendak’s sternum, gripping his hips fiercely and nearly digging his nails in. Not that Sendak seemed to mind, meeting his thrusts regardless of Shiro’s grip.

Sendak came undone first, head falling back in a soundless cry, and his clenching and spasming drew Shiro over after him a few thrusts later. They collapsed as a pair, clinging and shivering through the aftershocks as Shiro spent himself at last.

When it was done, Sendak’s hand settled against Shiro’s head, kneading gently at his scalp as he came back to himself. His thighs were sticky, Sendak’s fur pressed wet against the skin where their joint release clung between them. His organic hand protested when he released Sendak’s hips, from gripping too tightly for too long, and the fingers of his prosthetic whined in tandem. He raised his head at last, peering up to meet Sendak’s gaze.

“You alright?” he asked, half-slurring his words.

“Mm,” Sendak said, nearly a purr. “You?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, and let his head fall back against Sendak’s chest.

He felt Sendak’s chuckle more than he heard it. The Galra shifted beneath him, and Shiro bit back a whine of his own as his softening cock slipped free. Calloused hands settled under his thighs, and a moment later Sendak sat them upright— and then stood. He was moving again. Shiro couldn’t bring himself to mind. He wrapped his arms a little more securely around Sendak’s shoulders, letting him move them as he pleased..

The sound of running water roused him, and he lifted his head from where it had settled against Sendak’s shoulder, gazing around. His bathroom. Sendak had settled them on the edge of the bathtub Shiro had used maybe _twice_ since he’d occupied the room to run a few inches of water into the bottom. Faint wisps of steam curled from its rolling surface into the cool air, gently fogging the room.

“Sen?” he asked.

“Sorry about that, love,” Sendak said. “But you and I are _both_ messes, and I can _promise_ you, you don’t want to learn what it’s like to clean my coat the morning after.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Shiro said, sitting himself up a little better. He fisted his hands in Sendak’s ruff again, settling more comfortably against him, relishing the warmth of Sendak’s body against his. Sendak purred softly in response, looping his organic arm around Shiro’s back in turn.

Eventually Sendak shut the water off, and Shiro tightened his grip as Sendak maneuvered them gently into the tub. Warm water lapped at his thighs— and then Sendak’s hands, warmer still, gently cleaning him off. He relinquished his grip to return the favor, running his fingers through the tacky fur on Sendak’s inner thighs and splashing the water up higher, making sure he got everything. Sendak guided him through tilting his head back to run clean water through his hair, letting him scrub his face while the Galra cleaned himself out.

If he hadn’t already come twice that evening, the sight would have been enough to turn Shiro back on. As it was, he finished washing his hair and settled up against Sendak’s shoulder again, waiting for him to finish.

“...So,” Sendak said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. “It’s late, and you’re half asleep as it is. Would you like me to stay with you tonight, darling?”

Shiro blinked up at him, peering through half-lidded eyes as he processed the question. “...Yeah, of course,” he said quietly, looping an arm around Sendak’s shoulders. “It’d be a bit of a dick move if I made you go back to your own room now— it’s, what, one in the morning?”

Sendak lifted his head, peering at the control panel on the wall, then ducked again to nuzzle at the top of Shiro’s.

“Try half-past and you’ll be closer,” he said. “Come on. You’re fading, and I’d like to get dried off before you pass out on me.”

Shiro grumbled at him but let Sendak scoop him up and carry him out of the tub. The bathroom floor was cold under his bare feet, and he winced, but the shock was enough to wake him while Sendak retrieved the towels. It took closer to _three_ to get Sendak fully dry— his heavy, dense fur seemed to _absorb_ water to a frankly ridiculous degree— but they managed it with only a bit of wrangling. And more kissing— though they were almost certainly done for the evening, Sendak couldn’t seem to keep his hands off, pulling Shiro back in every few minutes to steal gentle, chaste kisses.

Eventually Shiro managed to wrestle Sendak out of the third damp towel and tossed it towards the laundry chute with the others. Both of them were laughing— Shiro _knew_ he had to be over-tired, if just Sendak scampering back to evade him had him giggling— and neither of them quite sobered as Shiro pulled Sendak back into the bedroom and drove him towards the bed, flinging the soiled upper sheet out as he did. He scrambled up on the mattress, and Sendak settled in behind him, not _quite_ pressing up against his back as he lay down.

_God_ , but the idea was comforting. Sendak’s warmth at his side, not quite touching, was a hell of a magnet. Shiro settled closer, almost despite himself.

Sendak pressed a kiss against his temple. His hands were on Shiro’s right elbow, calloused palm pressed against his skin, and there was a soft pneumatic hiss as his prosthetic uncoupled. Shiro winced automatically. His upper arm was sore, as usual— triceps and deltoids especially, where the weight of the prosthetic dragged at him— and what was left of his forearm ached quietly. Sendak’s warm hands closed around the remnant limb, massaging gently, and Shiro rolled over enough to press his face into Sendak’s shoulder and stifle a moan of relief.

“Tell me you weren’t planning to sleep in that, love,” Sendak murmured.

Shiro winced. “...I did last night,” he admitted, unable to help the swell of embarrassment.

Sendak grumbled low in his chest, not quite a rebuke. “I keep telling you not to do that,” he said. “You’ll pull a muscle, and that tissue needs time to _breathe_ . _You_ need time to breathe, without that weight on you.”

His hands were so warm and so gentle, and a low purr rumbled in his chest to settle in the hollow place behind Shiro’s sternum. He had a feeling, somehow, that Sendak didn’t mean _only_ his arm.

“Maybe I need you to remind me sometimes,” he admitted.

Sendak huffed, nearly a laugh. He released Shiro’s arm, and a second hiss said he’d detached his own arm, dropping it off the side of the bed to rest against Shiro’s prosthetic. His organic hand returned to the kneading, and his bulk settled against Shiro’s back, curling comfortably around him. He was _deliciously_ warm, and Shiro couldn’t help settling back against him, fitting himself against the curve of Sendak’s torso. He felt nearly _engulfed_ , held secure as Sendak purred against his back.

“What, you mean you _aren’t_ afraid I’ll roll over and squish you?” Sendak teased.

Shiro hummed, settling back against him. “....You know, I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “You’ve got me, right?”

“Always,” Sendak purred.

He pressed a kiss to Shiro’s nape, then curled around him again, his chin settling atop Shiro’s head. His hand pulled away again— fumbling for the control panel at the head of the bed, Shiro guessed, by the way the rest of his body shifted. The room lights dimmed, fading away until the space was cast in shadow, lit only by the faint bluish light of the panel itself. Sendak hummed again, and there was a faint click of claws on the glassy surface of the panel.

That light dimmed too, sinking away into a deep, comfortable red. The hair at Shiro’s nape prickled slightly— it was a _very_ Galra lighting choice, and those always unnerved him— but he couldn’t blame Sendak either. The darker lighting pushed away the omnipresent reflections on the white and chrome walls, leaving them in the closest thing to darkness one could get on the Castle of Lions. Shiro closed his eyes and settled in, relaxing against Sendak’s chest.

Sendak’s hand returned to kneading at Shiro’s remnant limb, and the purr in his chest deepened to a low, comforting roll, more vibration than sound.

Shiro let it lull him into sleep, at long last.


End file.
